Monday, August 14, 2017

Thursday, August 10, 2017

So I've been fortunately having quite a bit of ffun recently, and even some rubber time!

A few weeks ago, I had the fortune of meeting a very handsome German flight attendant through a common friend. We went out for drinks and eventually Mr P and I brought him home for the night. We had a great time with him until 3am or so.

I found out through our common friend that we shared a big common interest, so I chatted him up the next day and that evening found myself at his hotel room. We fisted each other immensely until about the same time that night too.

Unfortunately he had to leave the next day so we had to part ways, but I'm still in touch with him and we will definitely get together again when we end up in the same city again.

The following weekend I had to work Friday night and so ultimately I stayed in the city for the weekend while Mr. P was out at the Falls. Saturday night was the first night of the International Fireworks Competition, so I went to a party a couple of friends were hosting. At this party I hooked up with another friend, Mook, I've been wanting to get to know better for a very long time, so I was very happy to take him home with me at the end of the party and spend the rest of the night fucking and fisting with him. He's so sexy and handsome, it was so much fun!

The following Tuesday I got together with my fistbud DS, another sexy fucker. We've gotten together maybe five or six times this summer, and we always have a terrific time playing sober, which is kind of our 'thing'. We had a great session, I got to some wonderfully new depth levels in him, and much of it was recorded just for posterity. He's a good friend of N33dfulthings, I will continue trying to get a group thing together with these guys as I dream about it often.

DS came with Mr. P and I to another fireworks party on Wednesday at Rob's place. Another fun night but an early end as it is the middle of the week. Also, the weekend coming up was Vancouver Pride and the BC Day long weekend so we needed our rest! Mr P and I had opted to go to the Falls this weekend instead of celebrating Pride; I just have not been in the headspace for Pride this year and was more excited to go camping for an extra day with Mr. P, Wardog and Mook and other friends than I was staying in the city.

As it turned out, we had an amazing time; Friday night we hosted a tiki party in the gazebo, I got to play with a super sexy guy named Ravi late in the night; On Saturday, Wardog, Mook, and I climbed up to the top of the Corkscrew Falls - a very secluded rock overhang over the falls overlooking the Dam. We did some molly and fucked and fooled around up there before coming back down for the chili cookoff, then proceeding to take more molly, played and cuddled more and were eventually joined by our friend C. Unfortunately Mr. P wasn't feeling well; the four of us fucked and fisted in the gazebo-turned-sex-tent until the wee hours of Sunday. Mook and I even traipsed out to the central lawn in the middle of the night where he proceeded to fist me long and hard on a picnic table under the full blood red moon (due to all the forest fire activity in BC the moons have been amazing!)

Sunday we laid around on the lawn and relaxed. Wardog made us margaritas, we harvested our pineapple plant and had a great dinner before socializing with friends again. We went to bed relatively early as we had to head back into the city early as Mook had a ticket to get on the Recovery Cruisey-T boat cruise in the afternoon.

Mook and Wardog are coming back up with us on the Labour Day long weekend so I fully expect a repeat of the hijinks from the BC Day long weekend!

Tuesday this week I finally got to meet Arc; a super sexy young guy on a student exchange here from New Zealand. He and I have been talking online for about half a year now, I was glad to give him a place to crash for a couple nights as he is couch surfing for the next couple weeks before he heads over to Victoria to get set up for school. Mr P and I had a lot of fun with him in the sling and vac-tower on Tuesday night, and Wednesday, as we had long anticipated, I finally got him completely rubbered up. We had a great day. He loves the sling and took to it like a fish to water....he certainly wants to try it again. So in addition to his first rubberization and his first sling experience, and exposure to hoods and masks, he also had his first fisting experience. I think we're witnessing the birth of a kink monster......

He left to his next accommodation today but we fully anticipate getting together some more while he is in the region until January.

So, today and tomorrow is wrapping up a short work week, then Mr. P and I are off to Winnipeg very early on Saturday morning until August 20 to attend two family weddings and do the family thing. Once we are back, we are up to Shadow Falls one more time, then it's Labour Day! Seriously, where did this year go? Everything's moving so fast!

I felt pretty lucky to have had five different sexy men's hands in me over the past few weeks. Very fucking lucky. A great rubber session and some hot outdoor sex to boot. It's still way too hot for rubber but it's nice to get a taste of it still once in awhile.

Oh yeah! And I officially received a payment from Metaversexxx for the 3-D porn vid royalties I've been involved with. I'm officially a paid porn star now! Yessss! LOL

Monday, August 7, 2017

Thursday, August 3, 2017

Shame
is a ghost that will just keep haunting you if you don’t make a sincere
effort to purge it. And wild hot deviant sex is the best kind of
exorcism I know.

Early this year, I angrily posted an excerpt from a New York Times article
about male strip revues. I highlighted a quote from a producer which
stated that his show is, “something quality, with real showmanship. Not a
traveling group of man whores.”

This kind of casual classism, whorephobia, and slut-shaming ain’t cute. It’s upsetting to me that the Times—which
can be prim to the point of inaccuracy— allows comments like this. But
it’s not really all that shocking when you realize how much vulgarity is
permitted as long as someone is hurling shame on someone else.

Writer Antonia Crane
commented on my post right away, suggesting that we talk about the
normalization of slut shaming on my podcast. So during a trip to Los
Angeles last Spring, I found myself seated on Antonia’s black leather
couch, cradling a strong cup of coffee, surrounded by Kathy Acker and
David Wojnarowicz books, talking about the Lusty Lady.

“The
freaks were at the Lusty,” Antonia told me, referring to her customers
at the legendary San Francisco peep show where she worked in the 1990’s.

“They
wanted to be seen. They were shoving zucchinis up their asses and tying
themselves into pretzels. They were wearing Santa hats and coming in as
a gang of clowns and all jerking off together. Did that come from
shame?”

Antonia
would know. Not only did she dance at the Lusty, beginning a
still-ongoing career as a stripper, but she was also involved in the
ground-breaking unionization of the club. Now she’s written a
semi-autobiographical screenplay about that experience with trans
filmmaker Silas Howard.

They
received a grant from the San Francisco Film Society/Kenneth Rainin
Foundation in screenwriting, and hope to start shooting the feature very
soon. In addition to this, Antonia wrote a ruthless memoir about sex
work, Spent—now
out in paperback—and she teaches the craft of memoir writing at UCLA.
Blonde and brightly tattooed, with a bubblegum pink perma snarl and
kohl-ringed eyes, Antonia is intensely enthused about what she calls
“savage art.”

Part
of what I wanted to explore with Antonia was the role that shame plays
in erotics. For many people — including some strip club patrons — a
cycle of shame seems integral to the expression of their desire.
Certainly many turn-ons, from pegging to patronizing a sex worker, from
ravishment fantasies to threesomes, are bound up in social taboos. Your
indulgence of these taboos gets its frisson from doing what you’ve been told not to do.

Ever since reading Daring Greatly by Brené Brown, I see shame everywhere.

“Shame is the most powerful, master emotion,” Brown says. “It’s the fear that we’re not good enough.”

Apply
this definition to sex, and it becomes clear why shame drives so many
erotic lives. Our sexual desires and identities are the things we are
told most constantly make us filthy, tainted—even unlovable.

Our indulgence of taboos gets its frisson from doing what we’ve been told not to do.

“If
we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and
understanding,” Brown says, “shame can’t survive.” What better way to
share your story than through sex? Who better to provide understanding
than strippers, doms, and escorts? We’ve seen it all, and we’re not that
shocked by you. We’ll put your shame in perspective.

People
judge others for their sexual choices as if they could just get rid of
their shame by displacing it, as if shame were a hot potato or the curse
from It Follows. Yet shame is a
ghost that will just keep haunting you if you don’t make a sincere
effort to purge it. And wild hot deviant sex is the best kind of
exorcism I know.

I already explored the topic of erotic humiliation with Princess Kali on
the podcast last year, but there’s an important distinction to be made
between erotic shame and erotic humiliation. Kinky humiliation is about
submitting yourself to having your status lowered, through fun
activities such as objectification, animal play, financial domination,
domestic service, or exposure.

Shame,
I think, has a meta-context. It’s an erotic urge: we’re driven by shame
in the interest of absolution. Like a consumer seeking a product to
fill a void that product marketing itself has created, some people who
are driven by shame can end up in a compulsive and self-replicating
cycle of dissatisfaction. I have seen people struggle when given the
opportunity to release the grip that shame holds over their sex life;
they’ve come to identify with that feeling, to connect it to pleasure,
as if they must pay a shame tax in order to feel good.

Seen
another way, sex might be the perfect environment to make yourself
vulnerable, to admit that you’re scared you’re not good enough. Sex
gives you the chance to be seen,
literally and metaphysically. What if someone sees you and lets you
know you’re more than good enough? Or what if, in sex, someone can dig
her claws into your shame, eviscerating it, laying it out before you
where everyone can get a good look at it? Maybe, sometimes, with the
right chemistry, seeing your own shame laid out before you might just
cure you from being controlled by it.

People judge others for their sexual choices as if they could just get rid of their shame by displacing it.

Is
a world without shame possible? Would we even like that world? With
that tension released, would the filthy sex we love even be hot anymore?
I don’t know, but in the meantime my project will be to concentrate on
detoxing my own shame rather than tamping it down or projecting scorn
onto others.

“I think we should harness shame and make it our bitch,” Antonia laughed, and I couldn’t agree more.

That’s
the irony of a male strip revue producer distinguishing his “classy”
show from “man whores. Being a whore is nothing to be ashamed of (and by
the way, in my experience nobody displays more quality showmanship than
whores). Shamers think they can avoid stigma by redirecting it, when
it’s the very behavior of judging others for their sexual choices that
should make shamers feel ashamed of themselves.

In light of receiving my first payment from Metaversexxx for my, er, performances, I am now officially a whore! Shameless and Slutty, and I wouldn't want it any other way! Yessssssss!!!